


A Tradition Worth Keeping

by tillyenna



Series: NYR Punishment verse [7]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Public Blow Jobs, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Snowballing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillyenna/pseuds/tillyenna
Summary: Miks got 5 goals against the Caps and my immediate reaction was 'I hope someone sucked his dick for that'Part of my wider rangers verse, but this is essentially 1800 words of bj....
Relationships: Chris Kreider/Mika Zibanejad, Henrik Lundqvist/Igor Shesterkin, Igor Shesterkin/Mika Zibanejad
Series: NYR Punishment verse [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654312
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68





	A Tradition Worth Keeping

The mood in the locker room is nothing short of elated. They all hide, while Mika gets his first star, and then when he comes into the empty locker room, run in and throw themselves at him, cuddles, hugs, Henrik emptying his water bottle over his head. Mika feels loved.

They all head back to Marc’s house after the game – they want to celebrate as a team, without the worry of press catching them drinking or misbehaving, and Marc’s house is always the best, too big for just him now Mats has moved away. Mika goes, of course he does, this is his night, but he makes sure that Chris comes too – he sits quietly in a corner, boot on his foot, trying desperately to hide the pain from his face.

They’re all a few drinks in when Lingo innocently asks his question. “If Henrik punishes us when we’re bad… who rewards us when we’re good?”

There’s laughs from around the room, and Buch says something in Russian that has Breadman spitting out his drink, and Georgiev looking in amazement at Shestyorkin.

“Really?” Georgiev asks in English.

“Oi,” Di Angelo calls across, “Share the joke.”

“I’m just reminding Igoryok of reward he give for hattrick in KHL.” Buchnevich shrugs innocently, a smirk across his face.

It’s Di Guiseppe who speaks up, “I’m guessing from the look on Shesty’s face it’s the same one as he’d give down in Hartford.”

Igor shoots him a dark look, and then nods, his blush starting to stain his cheeks.

“Anyone gonna share with the team?” Di Angelo rolls his eyes.

Igor shakes his head, “Not know English.” He says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It’s absolutely a lie. It was one of the words he learnt before coming to America – but there’s no reason for Di Angelo to know that. He feels Henrik’s hand on the small of his back before the soft low voice in his ear, asking him if it’s true, if what Henrik’s assumed is correct.

Igor’s blush deepens. He nods once. And then, keeping his voice low so only Henrik can hear him, “Only if you say me to.” He risks glancing over his shoulder at the older netminder. “Is your choice now.”

Henrik grins at that, and then walks away from Igor, going to talk not to Mika, but to Krieds.

“What do you think Krieds?” He asks softly. “Mika done well enough for that?”

Chris understood enough of the Russian to have followed what Buch said in the first place. “Hell yes.” He says with a laugh.

Henrik looks over at Igor, and then jerks his head towards Mika. “Go on then Princess.” He says with a laugh, “Do your thing.”

Mika is sat nervously on one of Staal’s couches, he doesn’t speak Russian, he’s never played down in Hartford, and whilst he’s game for most things – it’s a little unnerving to have Shesty wandering over to him with a purposeful look on his face.

“Is OK?” Igor asks standing in front of him.

“Say yes!” Are the calls of various people around the room who either know what is about to happen or have worked it out.

“What am I saying yes to?” Mika asks up at Igor.

Igor grins, licks his lips purposefully, and then sinks to his knees.

“Oh.” Mika stares at him in astonishment, and then, leaning forward, “You’d really do this for anyone who got a hattrick?”

Igor shrugs. “I like.” Is all he says. He’s not willing to go quite into why this in particular, not just the act, but being used as a reward is a thing for him, not right now.

Mika glances across at Chris, who nods at him, and then leans back, spreading his legs so Igor can settle in between them. “Not like I’m going to refuse.” He says with a smirk.

Igor manages to swallow the little sound of delight he makes, he’s been more careful up with the Rangers than he was down in Hartford – his wolf pack boys knew exactly how he was and loved him for it, but coming into a team where he is very definitely not their goalie has left him feeling unsure. Now, however he’s beginning to feel like the rangers could become his boys.

He reaches for the zipper of Mika’s slacks, and as he slips his hand inside and pulls out his teammates soft cock, his world narrows. He can no longer hear what the others are saying around him as he reaches forward, and sucks it, soft into his mouth, he can’t tell who is looking at him, who’s watching them, as Mika groans, his cock starting to fill. This is Igor’s world now, and he loves it.

As Mika’s cock hardens in his mouth, he swallows it down into the back of his throat causing his teammate to swear loudly.

Igor reaches out and grabs Mika’s hands where they’re fisting uselessly at his sides, moving them to thread through his hair before turning his attention back to what he was doing, swirling his tongue around the head of Mika’s cock once before sucking it back down to the back of his throat.

Mika swears again, thrusting his hips up without warning, bucking into the young netminder’s throat.

Igor just hums happily, and the idea that his teammates are watching him, and will no doubt be impressed at the fact he didn’t choke or pull away just makes him even more turned on than he already was. He pulls his mind away from his audience however, burying his nose in the hair at the base of Mika’s cock, inhaling the smell of him as he breathes in.

“Shesty…” Mika sounds desperate already, and he’s not even been doing this long.

Igor pulls off, shaking his head, “No,” he says with a grin, “Not Shesty. Igor.” It’s his one rule, if he’s giving someone head, they can damn well use his given name, not the Americanisation of his family name.”

“Sorry,” Mika looks a little abashed, stroking his hair softly, “You’re good at this.” He’s breathless and shaking already.

“Close?” Igor grins up at him with a smirk, “I be less good. Not want stop.” He noses softly at Mika’s balls, “Am like this.”

Mika whimpers softly as Igor runs his tongue in a flat wide stripe up the shaft of his cock, “You’re beautiful Igor.” He murmurs reverentially.

Igor smiles up at him, brilliant and bright in that moment, pressing his lips to the tip of Mika’s cock, almost as a kiss before he sucks the head back into his mouth. He works hard, swirling his tongue round, pulling the full length into his throat – he knows he’s good at this. Out on the ice, sometimes he fails them, but this, he never fails at.

He works himself into a rhythm, making sure to keep enough saliva in his mouth to keep things moving, but not so much he’s drooling all over himself, relishing in the feeling of the head of Mika’s cock bumping against the back of his throat as he bobs his head up and down. He alternates between sucking hard, and flickering movements with his tongue, loving the way Mika’s hands tighten in his hair when he changes.

He hears Henrik speaking, it might be English, it might be Swedish – he recognises Henrik’s voice, but can’t translate the words, and honestly, he’s concentrating hard enough that he doubts he’d understand even if someone was speaking Russian to him. He hears Mika, sounding questioning, and Henrik’s insistence, and then Mika’s hands are tightening in his hair and he’s thrusting up into his mouth with purpose.

This time Igor can’t stop the groan that spills out of his mouth, relaxing into Mika’s grasp as he fucks up into him, he lets his mouth relax, his throat relax, all of him relaxes until he’s just a boneless mess, his only purpose being to receive Mika’s cock as he’s given it. He knows he’s good at sucking cock, but this, this is what he was made for.

He feels another set of hands on him, stroking down his throat, across his hair – he knows that touch, knows it’s Henrik. He feels himself spreading his legs, against his own will, and whimpers a little with shame that his teammates are finally getting to see how much of a slut he is for Henrik, how much of a slut he is for being used this way.

Still, with Henrik’s hand on the back of his head, urging him further onto Mika’s cock than is strictly comfortable, and Mika thrusting up into his mouth, his own cock is achingly hard, and his focus narrows to what he’s doing.

Mika has lost all grasp of English, swearing and babbling in Swedish, so Igor knows he’s close, and when he comes hard, he’s able to hold it, pooling in his mouth. He strokes Mika softly through the aftershocks, but his attention is only on Henrik. When Mika’s stopped twitching, Igor glances up at Henke, his mouth shut to keep all of the come that’s sat in it.

“You’re obsessed.” Henrik grins at him, stroking one finger down his cheek, “But I’m sure Krieds will indulge you.”

Igor had to work to keep the grin off his face as he stood and wandered over to where Chris was sat on one of the other couches. He let his thumb brush against Chris’ lower lip, silently questioning.

Krieder laughs a little, and then nods, reaching out to grab Igor by the back of the neck and pulling him in for a messy kiss, Mika’s come spilling from Igor’s mouth into his. He can’t stifle the laughter at Igor’s desperate whimpers, the way the younger man is so desperately turned on by this. He flickers out his tongue and lets it swipe up the come spilling out of the corner of Igor’s mouth.

“Fuck,” comes a whisper from beside them, “That’s hot.”

That makes Krieds properly laugh, grinning against Igor’s mouth as he does. “You did good kid.” He says.

Igor straightens up, straight into Henrik who had moved to stand behind him. He feels his knees give as Henrik’s arms slide around his waist.

“I’m going to take this slut home.” Henke says to the room in general, his voice is fond despite the insult, and he holds Igor close to him. “Go and say thank you to Mika.”

Igor manges to pull away, feeling drunk with arousal, and stumbles over to Mika. He stands in front of his team mate, and then leans forward, pressing his face into Mika’s neck. “Thank you.” He says, quiet enough that only Mika can hear it.

Mike laughs, “Don’t know why you’re thanking me.” He grins at Igor, “You’re awesome.”

Igor blushes, and straightens up, heading back over to where Henrik is waiting for him.

As the door closes quietly behind them, there’s a moment of silence in the room, until Mika breaks it with a loud. “Fuck.” And then, “That’s a tradition worth keeping.”


End file.
